


The Thunder Rolls

by arazialotis



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Minor Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15085382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arazialotis/pseuds/arazialotis
Summary: Dean and Sam are on a case in your hometown but the trail is running cold. Dean is hoping to make a move before they leave town and start another case. Based of the Garth Brooks song with the same title.





	1. Chapter 1

Sam and Dean rolled into town with the all too familiar rumble of the Impala. To them it seemed like a straightforward case. Three demons had been causing havoc in the area. Not for any reason in particular, probably just to stir up the dust of the small conservative town. Earlier in the week, they had tracked all three demons to a beach house. They were able to take care of two but the third smoked out. They reckoned the thing was still in town but laying low based on sulfur that was found at several violent thefts. However, they couldn’t establish a pattern and the trail seemed to turn cold. They discussed back and forth on whether they should head out for bigger and badder things. Dean argued they should stay but Sam saw right through his intentions. The fact that he had been eyeing a bartender every night gave him away, not wanting to leave town before he made a move.

You had been born and bred in this town. Never leaving for more than three days at a time. As everyone did in this town, you married young. Travis would have been a catch in high school and only after a year he swept you off your feet. Travis went straight to work in a factory full time. He was unable to move forward with his life, saying high school was the glory days and the best time of his life, it only went downhill from there.

When you confronted him about his lack of ambition, that’s when he started hitting you. Just a push here and there at first, but eventually you started having to hide the bruises. Travis helped, he was smart about it, never hitting you on the face, always on the back or upper arm. He knew you would never leave him. You were too concerned about the church and your parents viewing you as a failure and disgrace. He would he even tempt you to walk out and call you a coward when you wouldn’t.

You tried everything to please him. You’d let him have his way with you, you’d never criticize him, do all the cleaning and cooking, being affectionate when he wanted it and distant when he didn’t. You eventually had to pick up jobs yourself to cover bills. Travis blew all the money from the factory gambling or on drinks. Two part time jobs got you by, waitressing in the morning at a local diner and bartending at night. Your bar shift usually ended at 1:00 am and recently Travis had not been home at that time. That’s when you started suspecting he was having an affair. Of course, you would never accuse him of it, fearing of what he would do to you. You only prayed it would get better. If you worked hard enough, remained pretty enough, and did your best to be a good wife, maybe he would change.

Your shift started with a rush and finally grew slow and steady thanks to it being a weekday night. You unconsciously remembered to keep your selves to your elbows so customers wouldn’t see the discolored green and purple. You were filling an order while simultaneously wiping up a spill when your eyes caught the two gentleman in the corner. You brought the customer their drink but your eyes did not leave the two of them. You saw them around a lot this week, both here and at the diner. They were usually in suits but tonight they were dressed down. When the shorter of the two looked your way, you averted your glance to a customer down the bar and checked if they wanted a refill. 

After tapping out a guy, the shorter one was back at the bar. Well shorter than the other, but he was by no means short. He had clean cut sandy hair and was rocking that 5 o’clock shadow. His enchanting green eyes made you feel like a giddy teenager all over again. 

He tipped the top of his long-neck bottle your way while analyzing you up and down. “How ‘bout a refill sweetheart?” 

You hid your blush as much as you could. You used to eat it up, flirting right back with the customers. It usually meant bigger tips. But the night Travis caught you, you had learned your lesson and never tried again. You kept it strictly professional when you untwisted the cap and set it down in front of him your ring finger front and center of the bottle so he could clearly see your band.

You threw the dishrag over your shoulder and went to clean glasses directly opposite of him. You stood on your tiptoes reaching for the brush your coworker obnoxiously kept on the top shelf. 

“What a view.” He playfully teased sending you into a state of shock. 

The brush you were reaching for fell straight out of your hand and straight into the sink. You landed back on your feet. The nerve this guy had. Sure, you had come across your handful of unwanted remarks but coming from someone looking like him. 

You turned back around facing him as he smiled like a confident child. You bit your lower lip unsure of how to react craving more of his attention yet fearing the consequences. 

“You new in town?” You simply asked trying to acquire more information. 

He leaned back in his chair taking a sip of Oberon. “Perhaps.” Still keeping that cocky smile of his. 

“Haven’t seen your face before this week.” You noted. 

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He playfully inquired.

You paused before answering. “…Perhaps.” You mimicked his sly grin. 

You studied the features of his face, the soft dusting of freckles over his skin, dazzling green eyes, and his tongue that flicked out before taking a sip of his beer. 

“You gotta name stranger?” You asked. 

He played around in his head whether he was going to be honest with you, but he looked into your eyes and knew he didn’t want to lie. “Dean.” 

“Huh?” You pondered.

“What?” He sounded defensive.

“Oh, nothing, just not what I pictured.” You remarked. 

“If you’re such an expert with names, what is yours?”

You pointed at your name tag. “Y/N”

“Hmmm.” He hummed analyzing you once more. “Fits perfectly.”

“So what are you doing in town, Dean?” You smiled saying his name, it already growing on you.

“Well…” He started. “Me and my brother…” He accidentally slipped instead of partner and pointed over at Sam who was on his laptop probably researching another case. “We are here on a case.” 

You tried to put two and two together but came up empty handed. “A case?” You asked confused. 

“Yeah, we are here due to the recent spike in crimes.” He continued. 

“Oh.” You tried not to sound disappointed. He was probably just grilling you for information. 

“Have you noticed anything strange or unusual? Something off in anyone’s behavior, tendencies of violence, smells of sulfur?” Dean automatically asked, cursing himself silently for probably just screwing up his shot with you. 

Your mind automatically flashed to Travis, but you tried to divert your thoughts. “I work at a bar,” You laughed. “I see anything from a full out brawl, to people pissing on the wall, to two dudes who just beat the shit out of each other start kissing. And that was just this week alone” You rambled.

“True, true. Wasn’t it just last night that everyone was sobbing and singing ‘Piano Man’ together.” He laughed. 

“Shhh,” You tried to cut him off. “Don’t give anyone any ideas. I get a bonus if we make it through a night without that song coming up.” You teased. 

“You do know it’s on your jukebox though?” He pointed out. 

You slyly smiled. “Why don’t you go check it out while I get you another beer?”

Dean took your offer and walked over while you quickly tended to some other customers. He took a quarter out of his pocket and selected the song. He watched the record labeled ‘Piano Man’ come up and the needle drop slightly scratching at first before ‘Have You Ever Seen The Rain?’ by CCR started playing. You had another beer ready for him by the time he made it back.

“It took some trial and error.” You explained. 

“A great improvement in my opinion.” Dean commented. 

“Listen, I don’t have anything against Billy Joel, but working at a bar, it is kinda a broken record.” You explained and you leaned against the edge of the bar making yourself just a bit closer to him. 

“I can imagine.” Dean said leaning in closer as well. 

Rain started to pitter-patter on the roof above and most of the customers got up to leave before it started to hit harder. You helped quickly cash some of them out. Most of the regular drunks stayed, they’d be walking home anyways or finding somewhere close to crash. Dean didn’t appear to be going anywhere. 

“So, you travel a lot for your job?” You asked picking up the conversation again. 

“That’s the understatement of the century.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Must be hard.” You stated. 

“Ah, it suits me. Sure it’s been hard to settle down but there’s something about the open road.” He explained. 

“Hmm.” You tried to imagine. “I’ve never been outside the county. I’d love to travel, see the world, but, I don’t know, I guess I am just tied down here. Not to mention, must get expensive if you don’t have a job to pay for expenses.” You rambled while you fiddled with your wedding band, Dean’s eyes intently staring at it. 

“Where would you go?” Dean asked curiously. 

You paused lost in thought. “Anywhere… Everywhere.” You smiled. 

It was then you noticed Dean was eyeing your arm, you tried to control your panic realizing the shirt’s sleeve must have slid up a bit. You quickly pulled it back down as Dean looked you straight in the eyes. 

“Who did that to you?” Dean frankly demanded.

You smiled and laughed a bit, having had plenty of experience making up stories to cover up what had really happened. “Only myself, I am a complete kluts.”

A soft roll of thunder sounded overhead. Dean knew you were lying. He had watched you all week and you carried yourself with elegance and grace in his eyes. He never saw you trip, break or drop anything, bump up against something or someone. He clenched his jaw and looked back at your wedding band assuming the worst. You had shifted your attention to cleaning out some glasses and pitchers.

“Sounds like a storm is rolling in.” You commented trying to do anything to change the subject.

Sam came up next to Dean and acknowledged you with a polite smile. “Hey, I might have a lead.” He explained. “We should check it out, soon.” Sam strongly suggested.

Dean sighed, wanting to stay with you, but knew he had an obligation to the case. “I’ll meet you out in the car.” He directed to Sam. Sam looked at him sternly as if almost to confirm Dean was not going to ditch him. “A few minutes.” Dean assured.

Once Sam left Dean pulled out his FBI card. “Y/N,” He called you back to his attention. “If you can think of anything that could help me out on this case, even the littlest detail could help.”

“I honestly have no idea.” You tried to rack your brain about recent crimes.

“Well then, even if you just need help with anything. Call me.” He gently grabbed your wrist and looked you dead in the eye. “I mean it.”

You smiled trying to play it off while analyzing his card eyes widening seeing the FBI logo. “Sure thing, Agent.”

Dean laid out a couple of twenties covering both him and Sam and walked out of the bar as the sound of thunder grew louder and closer.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time you rolled home it was a full downpour, it was obvious the storm was only building and there was no clear end in sight. You showered to wash away the burden of a full work day but it still had not calmed you. Travis was still not home. Guilt hit you as you imagined him partaking in an affair. What if he was caught in the storm or worse, was in an accident. You dialed his number for a second time that evening but it only rang to be picked up by his voicemail. Surrendering, you dressed in your plaid flannel pajama pants and a gray v-neck t and went to find the relief of sleep.

As much as you tried to close your eyes in bed, you tossed and turned as your thoughts raced. Eventually, you couldn’t take lying down any longer. You paced the hallways by the front window waiting for his truck to pull in. You bit the nails of one hand while the other clung tight to your cell phone not wanting to miss his call if it came. A big crack of lightning flashed across the sky causing you to jump.

Rarely did you use alcohol to self medicate, seeing what it had done to Travis, but you felt as if your heart would beat out of your chest. You poured out whiskey over two cubes of ice, at least two shots worth. The whiskey burned your throat as you forced a healthy dose down causing you to hiss at the pain. Travis’ preference was more harsh than it was balanced, but it continued to warm you on its way down. You pressed the cold glass to your head to try and help numb your thoughts. It worked for a while, you lost track of time as you leaned against the counter.

It was 3:30 in the morning when you immediately noticed the light of headlamps sweep through the house being such a contrast to the regular sharp flash of lightning. You instantly poured the remainder of the drink into the sink and left the cup on the counter. You practically ran out the front entrance and embraced your husband as soon as he shut the pick up’s door.

“I was so worried you may have been in an accident.” You explained seeking out comfort from him but he remained rigid.

That’s when you smelled it. Hidden between the scents of rain and alcohol, you smelled a sweet perfume, something you rarely, if not ever, wore. The lightning cracked in the sky and a roll of thunder roared loud enough to shake the ground. You knew your suspicion of an affair was true. You back away slowly and turned to run inside trying not to let him see you cry.

“Y/N.” You heard him call your name. You continued to run back into the kitchen, leaning over the sink afraid you may heave.

“Y/N.” His voice grew louder and every time it felt like a knife stabbing you in the gut.

When he reached the kitchen, he grabbed and yanked your wrist with such force it caused pain to ripple up into your shoulder in order to face him instead of the sink.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. “How could you?!” You demanded with tears and he answered you with a crooked smile. “Tell me Travis! How?”

“I put up with so much, you ungrateful bitch! Always whining and complaining, saying how I am not good enough for you.” Travis yelled.

“Are you kidding me?” You almost laughed at your newfound courage. “I have worked my ass off to make this work! I have been loyal, patient, understanding, submissive…”

He cut you off smacking you hard across face, cracking just like the lightning outside. You held your face in complete disbelief as tears started to well up from the shock, he had never hit you in the face before.

“You selfish bitch.” He spat and threw you against the counter. “What I have to put up with. You think I wanted this life, to be tied to you.” You fell to the ground. “You are pathetic, you know that? So what, I have been sleeping around? You are a bore in bed and pitiful to look at.” He kicked you in the chest. “Who would want to look at those hideous bruises and scars while fucking anyway?” 

You gasped for breath and tried to crawl away. He stalked you like a cat stalked its prey, watching you attempt to escape but never giving you full control. You crawled into the hallway and struggled to pull yourself up onto two feet. Travis assisted you by grabbing your hair and yanking you up. He smashed you against the wall and pinned you to it with his body. His forearm pressed against your throat making it difficult to breathe.

“But that’s never stopped me, has it?” His fingers slipped under your shirt and caressed your side. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your face. “You like it, don’t you.” He said it in a way that sounded like a revelation. “Being pushed around, roughened up… submitting.”

His fingers slid along the rim of your pajama bottoms and upon reaching the front undid the ribbon with one pull of the string. You sensed something was wrong about him, he typically didn’t give a damn about you or show this much malevolence. Maybe it was just the night because you felt different too, like the storm outside was raging inside your own heart.

“Not today Travis.” You sneered and spit in his face using it as a distraction to create a bit of space to knee him right in the groin.

As Travis groaned in pain, you sprinted down the hallway into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. You knew he would not be far behind and cried out in pain as you strained yourself pulling the dresser to act as a barricade. You frantically searched in Travis’ nightstand and under the bed for a pistol you knew he kept somewhere. The pounding came from the other side of the door as he called your name. You were terrified to go closer, but you had to search the dresser. Your heart accelerated as you looked through his drawers and he continued to pound. But you found it at last.

You retreated to the back corner of the room praying to God you wouldn’t have to use it. You didn’t have a lot of experience with guns, but you had enough. You checked to see if it was loaded, switched the safety off, and cocked it aiming it at the door. Eventually, the pounding at the door ceased and you sighed in relief hoping he would leave you alone for the rest of the night.

All was quiet, aside from the drops of rain hitting the window. You allowed yourself to slide down the wall and brought your knees to your chest, still not letting the pistol out of your hand. You were finally calm enough for your thoughts to start racing again. You had to leave him, you couldn’t keep living like this. Your mind went to Dean, would he be willing to help? He was the only thing different in this town, it was clear no one here would help you. They would suggest marriage counseling through the church or trying to make Travis happier. It wouldn’t make a difference when every other night you would put up with it, control yourself, and behave and what seemed to be turning slowly into the need to fight for your life.

You wanted to pack a bag, to leave tonight, probably stay in a motel until you had things figured out. As you got up off the ground, you winced from the pain in your back and ribs. Before you even had the chance to start your way to the closet, the door flew open with such force that the dresser slid across the room smashing into the wall and causing the picture window to crack. You screamed in fear seeing Travis walk through, a look of murder in his eyes.

Without thinking, you drew up the pistol and shot in his direction, crying out as you did. Your ears rung, yet the room was silent, and felt wrong. Travis was still standing, with his eyes closed. You saw the bullet hole directly in his forehead and blood on the wall behind him. You watched in horror as he remained standing confused on why he wouldn’t have collapsed.

Through the ringing in your ears and the thunder, you heard a low chuckle. The lightning flashed and his eyes opened to pitch black. You put your free hand over your mouth to afraid to make a sound.

“What a rush to the head!” He exclaimed excitedly, his eyes flashing back to normal only with streaks of blood through them.

Your heart stopped, this wasn’t real, you had to be hallucinating. But there he was clear as day. You were frozen with panic.

He felt the back of his head. “Now, that’s going to take a while to patch back up.” He slyly looked at you and licked his lips. “But you’ll be a lovely little distraction.”

You held up the gun again at his threat, unsure it would do any good but letting him know you were not going down without a fight.

“You’ve grown feisty.” He observed. “I think that should make this all the more fun.” He purred.

As he took a step towards you, you unapologetically fired two rounds, one missing him all together and the other landing in his chest. 

“You’re going to regret that.” He hummed happily.

You fired another shot into his shoulder but it was clear you were not stopping him, just slowing him down. Tears slide silently down your face as you felt defeated and expected the worse, when your brain took control of your body not yet giving up. You fired again, two shots, this time at the window. It cracked even further and by the time you jumped over the bed and launched yourself into it, it shattered, setting you free into the open.

No time was wasted to look back, you took off running through the storm, within seconds soaked by the pouring rain. You ran as far as adrenaline would take you. You stopped to catch your breath and realized you were in the downtown area, which for this town was only about two blocks worth of businesses. Not wanting to be exposed, you led yourself into a small alleyway between two buildings. Leaning your back against the wall, you tried to catch your breath but your whole body was shaking with adrenaline and fear. The gun seemed glued to your hand almost unwilling to let go.

You allowed yourself a couple of sobs, but when it felt like the sobs were needing to be turned to screams of horror, you forced yourself to stop not wanting to wake someone. Distracting yourself, you walked the streets and alleyways trying to come up with a plan. Your mind flashed to Dean and you cursed yourself as his card was in your purse that was still at home. As you walked, you tried to convince yourself it was for the best, it wouldn’t be good calling a fed with a gun in your hand, trying to explain you had just shot your husband three times but that he was unaffected and wanted to kill you slowly enjoying every bit of it.

Upon your feet leading you to the only motel downtown, you realized you wouldn’t be able to stay there having no money on you. There was no question you could go to your family’s house. They would start asking questions and accusing you. Not to mention probably calling Travis, alerting him to your location.

That’s when you saw it. A familiar old black car. Something in your memory clicked but it took you a while to visualize it. You remembered Dean and his partner earlier this week, chatting at the diner, leaving payment on their booth and then walking outside. Getting into that car and driving off. Your body dragged you closer to the car without your full awareness. You guessed which hotel room was theirs on the bases of where the car was parked. Your free hand raised to knock on the door as your whole body continued to shiver. A voice inside your head said this was the most stupid idea you had ever had, but you went with your gut and tapped on the door three times.

—

The lead early the evening had sounded promising but turned into a total bust. Sam had centered a few of the crimes to a nearby factory. There was definitely sulfur in the men’s locker room but after hours of interviewing the crews and giving them a plastic water bottle containing holy water, Dean ‘accidentally’ spilling some on those who would not drink, it was clear the demon had moved on or his vessel worked another shift.

Sam had found another case a couple states over and argued that it was more pressing than the current one. Dean argued back saying that they weren’t going to leave a job only halfway finished. Sam agreed to one more day of interviewing 1st and 2nd shifters at the factory, but was not going to agree to stay any longer.

The storm got worse but both Sam and Dean were able to fall asleep. Dean was traditionally a light sleeper without alcohol and tonight’s beers wore off early. When he woke from dreams he assumed it was a clap of thunder but the pounding continued. He concentrated harder when the pounding halted and then repeated. It finally hit him that someone was knocking at the door. He picked up the alarm clock bringing it closer to his face to get a clearer view of the time but the hour of the morning confused him more. He grabbed his pistol from under his pillow and then threw the pillow at Sam waking him up.

Sam jolted up looking around for trouble, but saw Dean with his pistol in hand and finger to his lips. Dean nodded to the door with his head and the knocking repeated again. Sam got up and found the demon knife stepping behind his brother ready for whatever was on the other side of the door.

The motel had no peep hole so Dean put his ear against the door looking for any other clues. He heard ‘please’ barely whispered and then just two more very soft and gentle knocks. Dean put his pistol down and motioned to Sam to lower the knife. Sam did, but did not let go of it.

Dean opened the door to the storm outside and there you were right in the entry way soaked to the bone, shivering and the pistol still in your hand. He could see that your cheek was red and swollen and that your gray t-shirt didn’t hide your bruises as well as your shirt from the bar.

It took a second for Dean, still in the haze of sleep to recognize you but when he did he quickly guided you into the room. “Y/N?” He asked worried.

Sam closed the door and turned on the light as Dean led you in. Sam went for the holy water, but Dean held out his hand to pause him. Dean guided you to sit down on his bed, you remained silent formulating your story, preparing for an FBI interrogation. Neither of them asked you any questions, Dean went to work trying to comfort you while Sam eyed you suspiciously. Dean wrapped two towels around your shoulder and used a washcloth to try and dry your hair when you didn’t respond to him offering it to you.

Your hair was still wet but no longer dripping, and Dean knelt down to try and meet your downward facing gaze, hoping to revive you from your catatonic state.

He brushed a strand of hair that was in your face aside and simply asked you, “Y/N, what happened?”

The pistol finally fell from your hand, you curled in on yourself not wanting them to see your weakness, but you began to weep. Dean looked at Sam for some direction, but Sam shrugged his shoulders. Dean picked up your pistol and unloaded it, seeing that several rounds were missing. He clicked the magazine back into place, put the safety on, and tossed it to Sam.

He sat on the floor while you continued to cry not wanting to press you for information and upset you further. You settled down a bit and wiped your tears with the towel that was still wrapped around your shoulder. Now that adrenaline was out of your system and you felt somewhat safe, the full pain from the evening started to set in on your face, wrist, chest, and back. You were determined not to become sick from it in front of them. Sam brought you a glass of water. Taking a few sips helped you calm down further. Dean knew he had laced it with holy water and Sam was more at ease when you showed no reaction.

You set the glass down on the counter, trying as much as you could to avoid eye contact with either of them ashamed of what you had done and bringing it to them. Dean moved from the floor to the bed to sit straight across from you. He gently reached for your hand trying to direct your attention to him and give you a sense of support.

You let him take your hand, he examined your wrist where light bruising had started from how hard Travis grabbed it. He closed his eyes for a few seconds deciding where to start again.

“Hey, Y/N?” He asked seeing if you would react better this time. “Me and my brother, we’re not actually FBI agents.” Sam flinched nervous at where Dean was going. “We use it as a cover to help people who are in danger of things that can’t be explained. So even if you feel like you did something bad, you can tell us, we won’t hurt you or lock you up.” He tried to explain as calmly and softly as possible.

His steady voice soothed you and for some reason, maybe it was the shine of his eyes, you knew that you could trust him.

“I…. I…” You stuttered.

Sam finally popped in offering support as well. “It’s okay, take your time.”

You took a deep breath and forced the words out as softly as you could. “I shot him.” You finally confessed.

Dean knew you meant the asshole who covered you in bruises and tried not to take delight in your retaliation against him.

“Who?” Sam inquired.

“Travis, my husband.” You were terrified even to mention him. “The way he came at me tonight, I couldn’t…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. Not to us.” Dean stated cutting you off already understanding half the reason why you did it.

You looked Dean straight in the eyes. “He’s not dead.” You confessed panicked. “I don’t know how, or I must be going crazy, but I shot him three times, straight in the head, and he walked it off like it was a simply an annoyance. He’s going to kill me Dean! He’s going to kill me.” You explained becoming more hysteric.

Dean jumped from the bed he was sitting on to yours and wrapped his arms around you, Sam was quickly by your side as well kneeling on the ground.

“Hey, hey.” Dean tried to sooth you. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He repeated over, rubbing your shoulders looking at Sam knowing they had found their demon.

“Y/N, I know it is hard to talk about, but what else was off tonight?” Sam inquired wanting to make sure. “Any strange detail could be important.”

Dean didn’t let go of you which is probably the only reason why you were able to continue. “He came home late. He just started cheating on me, I didn’t want to believe it, but tonight there was this perfume on him, that wasn’t mine. And I, I just couldn’t put up with him anymore. He’s always been rough, but tonight, it was like he was seeking blood. I didn’t mean to shoot him, I just wanted to scare him. But he forced the door open so hard, I don’t know where he got the strength. And I was just so scared I pulled the trigger. I don’t know how it landed right between his eyes, but it did and he just stood there, unfazed. I swear when he opened his eyes they were pitch black.” Tears started spilling out again.

Dean curled you into his chest. “We’re going take care of this.” You could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. “He’s never going to hurt you again.” 

“How?” You asked not seeing a way to stop him if bullets wouldn’t.

“You let us worry about that.” Sam said not wanting to yet explain demons and monsters to you.

Dean noticed you were still shivering. “Why don’t you take a shower to relax and warm up? Then maybe get some rest?” Dean suggested. You nodded your head. “Come on.” He guided you up and to the bathroom.

He turned the water on and adjusted the temperature for you and brought you one of his dry t-shirts and sweatpants. Steamed started to fill the bathroom and Dean was about to close the door.

“Please, don’t leave.” You pleaded wanting them to stay at the motel.

“We’ll be right out here, call if you need anything.” He explained and waited for you to nod in agreement.

He closed the door but left it open a crack for your comfort. Sam was back on his laptop looking up information on Travis. He had quite a record of small misdemeanors and worked at the factory they had gone to earlier in the evening.

“He’s definitely our guy.” Sam observed.

“Even if he wasn’t, I still would go over to teach him a lesson.” Dean said sternly. “No one deserves what she’s been through.”

“We have to be careful, he already knows we are in town. He’ll smoke out again if he sees us coming.” Sam explained.

“Yeah, I’d like to get Y/N’s input on his behavior lately once she’s gotten some rest. Where he’s been going, any patterns she knows off. We should check the factory again to and see if he’s been showing up for shifts.” Dean added.

“We could use her…” Sam suggested.

“No, out of the question.” Dean demanded. “She can’t even get through a sentence without panicking, no way we are using her as bait.”

“Then what’s your plan?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find another way.” Dean stated firmly, trying to think of something while rubbing his forehead.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun warmed your back as you slept gently in Dean’s bed, you could hear birds chirping and still a few soft drops of rain. Sam went out for breakfast and borrowed a car to swing by your house to stake out, trying to get a better idea if Travis was still around. Dean promised he would stay by your side. He fell lightly asleep in the lounge chair off in the corner of the room, trying to catch up on his own sleep deprivation.

You slightly awoke when Sam came through the door. Once you were fully conscious, you decided to act like you were still sleeping, hoping to hear some information he might not disclose if you were awake. Dean you fully trusted but Sam you still had yet to figure out. He seemed strictly business.

“Hey,” Sam whispered to Dean while shaking him awake.

“What? What?” Dean waved him away. “I’m up.” He said running his hands through his hair.

Dean watched you sleeping, wondering how you had managed to remain this peaceful. Probably because you were so exhausted you couldn’t dream, he thought. Sam sat down across from Dean after placing the to-go cups of coffee on the table in between them. Dean took one and started sipping it down.

“So, you find out anything?” Dean questioned.

“He wasn’t at the house, but there was plenty of sulfur pinning him there.” Sam started and he looked at you to make sure you were still sleeping. “He cleaned up too, in a rush, but it looks like he doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself.”

“What about the factory?” Dean asked.

“Spoke with a supervisor. He called in sick today.” Sam explained.

“Hmm… “ Dean thought. “Maybe back with whoever this other chick was?”

“Or hunting her.” Sam nodded in your direction.

“The three of them didn’t seem so obsessive.” Dean argued going back to earlier in the case.

“Maybe it was triggered when it possessed Travis, by their past. Based on her story, I don’t think he is done seeking her out.” Sam reasoned.

“Then we should get her as far away as possible.” Dean said going for the Impala’s keys.

“Or we could use it to our advantage.” Sam suggested.

“I already said we are not using her as bait, I’m not going to repeat myself again.” Dean growled in your defense.

You couldn’t take lying still anymore and mustered whatever courage you had.

“I want to help.” You said standing up, trying not to wince in pain to convince them you were able.

Both of them jumped to surprise.

“What we are dealing with is way over your head sweetheart.” Dean discredited your offer.

You lightly scoffed surprised as he had always been so soft with you and now was being so headstrong. “I think I got a pretty good idea of what we are dealing with last night, thanks.” You argued back.

At this point, Dean didn’t care if he upset you. He’d rather have you angry with him than being in harm’s way again.

“Y/N.” Sam spoke out softly. “Travis is possessed by a demon. If you join us you need to be prepared for the risks.”

“I understand.” You calmly told Sam.

“I don’t think you do.” Dean countered. “This is a creature that has spent centuries undergoing torment and torture in hell that it’s soul has become so twisted it can only spread evil and hurt.” He continued to explain trying to scare you.

“I don’t care about the risks, or what it costs, I just want to finish it.” You pleaded wanting, no needing, to put an end to your own hell you’ve been living in.

Dean muttered something under his breath and stormed out the door. Sam followed him out the door calling his name. You sat back down on the bed catching your breath assuming there was still some type of energy from last night surging through you. Perhaps you finally had just cracked and would not put up with anyone’s shit anymore. You could hear muffled arguing from outside and then the start of the engine. The car pulled away as Sam entered the room again.

“Uh, Dean’s just running to get some more supplies.” Sam threw out an excuse to which you simply raised your eyebrows to show acknowledgement. “Why don’t we go back to your house and pack a few of your things.”

Your heart started beating faster but you nodded your head in agreement wanting to get out of pajamas. You were fairly silent on the drive over in the car Sam had borrowed. The closer you got to the house, the harder it was to avoid the memories.

“Has he always been a demon?” You barely asked thinking back to when he changed early in your marriage.

Sam sighed, knowing it would be easier for you and make more sense if he had been. “No, we were hunting this group for a while. This one fled from his original host and then possessed Travis.”

“Can anyone be possessed?” You asked scared for your own safety.

“Yes…” Sam started. “But there are ways to take caution.”

“Why do you think it chose him?” You asked.

“Honestly, it could be a number of things. Closest body at the time, attracted by his behavior, just for the hell of it…” Sam explained.

Definitely behavior you thought.

He drove past your house. From the outside, it look as if Travis had nailed up a blanket over the broken window. And his pickup truck was no longer in the driveway. Sam turned down a side street and parked along the grass. Sam got out of the door and you forced yourself to join him.

Sam continued to scan the area to see if you were being watched. Your hands shook as you tried the door handle. You opened the door and could hardly manage to step through the threshold. Sam rubbed his hand on your shoulder encouraging you.

“It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” He tried to comfort you.

You took a deep breath and felt more relieved remembering Sam had said he had been here earlier this morning. There was evidence that the fight had happened. In the hallway, picture frames were askew and one had fallen to the ground and shattered. You walked slowly, but it was as fast as you could go towards the bedroom feeling repelled. Once you entered you saw blood on the walls and smelled a horrible smell, recalling Sam had mentioned sulfur.

After analyzing the scene and feeling more secure knowing Travis was no longer here you went to work. In your mind you were determined never to step in this house again. You grabbed a large duffel bag from your closet and started packing the essentials, enough clothes to last a week. You went to your nightstand to grab your phone and charger.

In the bathroom, it was clear Travis had cleaned himself up. There was blood on the floor and in the sink. A small part of you was glad he still bled, it meant he could hurt. After packing your hygiene items, you went to the second bedroom which was used more as a storage room. You went through some packing boxes until you found your old jewelry box. You kept quite a chunk of emergency money there. You also grabbed a gold heart locket that your grandfather had given you when you turned four. He had been the only good thing about this town but passed even before you were married.

You met back up with Sam in the kitchen with the duffel bag swung over your shoulder.

“Ready?” Sam asked.

You took off your wedding ring and left it on the counter. “More than ever.” You responded.

The two of you met back up with Dean at the hotel who had thoughtfully brought back some burgers and fries. He and Sam had worked on turning a few gallons of water into holy water. You watched them with curiosity trying to memorize the words they had chanted. Sam showed you how to pack shotgun shells with salt, explaining while no permanent damage would occur, it would help slow him down.

While you were focused on packing Dean wandered over to you, analyzing your method. You glanced his way but tried to ignore him.

“This is for you.” He plainly stated offering you a black band with a charm that looked like a star surrounded by fire.

You looked puzzled at him but didn’t take it from him.

“May I?” His hand reached for your wrist and you brought it closer to him as he tied the band around it. “As long as you are wearing it, no demon will be able to possess you.”

You inspected it further. “Thanks.” You said skeptically almost wondering if it was just a wives’ tale to make you feel better.

“Y/N? Where do you think Travis would go looking for you?” Sam inquired.

You thought about it. He knew you pretty well. He would know that you would be too ashamed to seek shelter from your family or the church. You knew a couple of girls from the diner, but you were never that close with them. The bar had an unoccupied apartment upstairs, but would he know about that?

“Probably the bar.” You guessed trying to sound confident.

“Well, then, we should probably head over now to set up traps and get an idea of crowd control if he shows up in the height of service.” Dean babbled.

“It’s Sunday, the bar will be closed.” You said.

Dean shot you a look of utter disbelief.

“Town law, no serving alcohol on Sunday.” You tried to explain.

Dean rolled his eyes and then began packing his duffel. “Let’s get over there, the sooner we gank the son of a bitch, the sooner we can leave this backwards town.”

You sighed, knowing Sam and Dean would be on their way out as soon as it was over, but you had no idea what it would mean for you or what your future held.

—

At the bar, there were no signs if Travis had already been there. Sam threw a duffle of supplies against the bar counter. Dean took a can of red spray paint and handed you a canister of salt.

“Salt the windows, Sam and I are going to paint devil traps at the entrances. That way he can only enter into a trap.” Dean explained.

You didn’t question him and went straight to work. You salted all the windows including the ones in the bathroom and upstairs. When you rejoined they were already talking about the plan.

“This should be a simple knockout, he enters, immediately caught in the trap and you stab the asshat before he even sees it coming.” Dean explained to Sam. “Don’t leave room for any chatting.” Dean wanted this done and over with.

“And if things don’t go to plan?” You asked.

“I’ve got enough salt shells to supply margaritas for parents at a quinceanera.” Dean sarcastically remarked holding up his double barrel shotgun.

“Y/N, if something goes wrong, run to the bathroom, lock yourself inside and put a salt line over the door.” Sam directed. “We’ll, take care of it out here.”

You nodded in agreement. “Until then?”

“We wait.” Dean stated.

“In that case…” you went behind the bar and got three PBRs tossing one to each of them.

It felt like a few hours had passed, you were all on alert but unsure when he would be coming by and if you would even notice his arrival. Dean and Sam stayed by the front entrance. You were contemplating suggesting a new plan or even trying to call him when you heard the muffled engine of his truck. Sam and Dean perked up a bit and looked at you.

‘That’s him’ you mouthed.

They both positioned themselves on either side of the door ready to jump. The front door flew open but no one was at the entrance. Sam held his position. Travis cautiously entered the view of the door and smiled.

“Child’s play,” He smirked and with the flick of his wrist the wood floor cracked beneath the trap rendering it ineffective.

Travis slowly started making his entrance, once he was in the door frame Sam yelled at you to run and jumped towards Travis. Travis ducked missing the swing of Sam’s fist with the knife grasped in it and side punched him in the ribs. Travis used his power to fling the knife out of Sam’s hand and cause it to slide away from him. Sam was shocked as Travis took another blow. Dean immediately started firing salt bullets trying to slow him down and get him off Sam.

Travis left Sam on the ground and reached for Dean’s gun, he grabbed it and with force ripped it from his hands. He swung the gun and the butt of it connected with Dean’s head. As the boys tried to recover, Travis directed his attention towards you.

“So what, now you are whoring yourself out to hunters?” Travis asked.

You thought about running but were determined to stay and help. You didn’t engage in conversation with him, knowing it was just to get a rise out of you. You grabbed two jars of holy water from the duffel and threw one at him. It shattered on his chest and he grunted as it sizzled on his skin. Sam regained his strength and thought if he could push them to the back entrance, he could get him in that trap. Sam jolted from the ground and used his might to push Travis forward. Travis managed to turn around and kick Sam in the side halting the both of them as Sam fell again to the ground trying to catch his breath.

You threw the second jar at him trying to get his attention off of Sam and he hissed as it shattered on his back. Dean reached for the shotgun again and reloaded.

“I’m growing impatient.” Travis growled and reached out both his arms.

Sam and Dean flew through the air and hit the wall hard each being pinned there. Travis walked directly towards you with a crooked smile on his face. You slowly backed up never taking your eyes off him. You put one arm behind you feeling for the bar and gasped when you hit it. Travis rushed to you pinning you against the counter with his body. Trying to get away any way you could, you wound up your arm to smack him across the face. He caught it midair and twisted it sounding a loud crack. You screamed in pain and sank to the ground. He slowly followed you down. Dean swore as he struggled to release himself but to no avail. He looked at Sam for an idea, but Sam was looking in your direction with panic. Dean prayed silently to Cas hoping for a miracle.

“You know, I don’t know if a demon has ever been created on earth, but with what I have in mind for you we might come close.” He cooed as he caressed your hair.

You saw the demon knife under the nearest barstool and breathed deep gathering your strength. “Fuck. you.” You used your good arm to quickly reach for the knife and thrusted it into his chest with everything you could.

Travis gasped in shock and as you stood up you saw him or the creature inside him flash orange several times before the life left his eyes and the body collapsed to the floor. Dean and Sam fell to the floor. You sighed in relief and felt overwhelmingly free.

—–

Sam rolled back into the bar parking lot with the Impala after disposing the body. Dean was slightly adjusting his makeshift sling that was already wrapped around you. He had wanted to take you to an emergency room but you insisted you would be fine for now. Sam came over to the two of you and handed you your duffel bag. You took it with your good arm and set it on the ground.

“So, what’s next for you Y/N?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, I have no idea. Probably anything to get me out of this place.” You responded.

Dean looked at Sam for permission who nodded. “You could ride with us for a while. Until you find a place to settle down.” Dean suggested.

You thought about it. “I think I’d like that.”

Dean lit up at your response. “Great, uh, do you need to get anything from your house?”

“Got everything I need right here.” You grabbed the duffel.

“Here let me take that for you.” Dean offered and opened up the backseat door for you.

You heard a low rumble from the east and you all looked to see a wave of gray clouds slowly heading towards the town.

“Looks like another storm is rolling in.” Sam commented.

“Yeah, but we aren’t going to be here for it.” You sighed in relief.

You hopped in and Dean took the driver’s seat with Sam at his side as always. Sam complimented you on your courage and fighting and you politely thanked him explaining you couldn’t have done it without them to which Dean argued you already had. You remained fairly silent, popping into the conversation here and there but you were focused on counting each mile as you progressed farther from town. Eventually even Dean and Sam slowed the conversation and Dean put in his CCR cassette tape. Your eyes slowly closed as you began to drift to sleep. You smiled to yourself as the track ‘Who Will Stop the Rain” came on and adjusted your duffel to a pillow. You let your dreams take you away from the past and onto a new adventure. Dean looked in the rearview mirror and caught your contagious smile.

Sam noticed Dean kept glancing back at you. He turned around to see if you were asleep before speaking. “She did pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah, she did.” Dean said continuing to drive towards what light was left in the sky.


End file.
